


This Cage You Wove Around Me is Perfect

by shadowlancer_95



Series: The Umbrella Academy For Excellent Parenting [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Klaus is trying, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 11:04:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17917550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowlancer_95/pseuds/shadowlancer_95
Summary: Klaus has a terrifying moment of clarity where he wonders just how much like dad Luther was.Or,In which Klaus is reminded of the mausoleum, decides to say fuck it to Luther and averts the apocalypse all on his own.





	This Cage You Wove Around Me is Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, so guess who just forayed into the mess that is The Umbrella Academy? God I love this show so much, and obviously, I would completely and utterly fall in love with Klaus Hargreeves, angst-ridden and broken and totally material for whump. ;) 
> 
> Honestly, I have several fics in queue for this series, but this one came out first because I couldn't stand Luther's decision to lock Vanya up (after abusing her trust wtf?) and I honestly wish that the series had gone down this path instead. Especially since we've all seen the infamous crypt scene, and of all the people there I would say that Klaus would relate best to being locked up in a cage. (Also Vanya deserves better than being thrown into isolation for something she couldn't even control)
> 
> Anyway, author's note has become too long, so just sit back and enjoy the fic! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own TUA, or there would be more Klaus-angst (than the show already gave us that is)
> 
> Please leave a review on your way out!

He can’t hear her screams – their father built the cage too well for that – but he can see the desperation in her eyes as she slams against the glass repeatedly, the words ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Let me out’ trapped in the steel cage with her. He sees her shaking form – sees the way she slowly breaks, cracks forming in her very soul, sees the tears that fall as she pleads with them to just _open_ _the door_.  
  
Klaus has a terrifying moment of clarity where he wonders just how much like dad Luther was.  
  
He doesn’t try to break past the giant like Allison does, or glare daggers like what Diego was doing. He knows just what he’s capable of, and he knows that he is no match for the supposed leader of their ragtag group. If even Allison – the one person Luther was most likely to cave to – could not sway him, and Diego – who was the only one who dared to challenge Number One – couldn’t stop him, then he – scrawny, cowardly, _weak_ – stood no chance.  
  
So when Luther shepherded all of them upstairs, he left with them, all the while the silent screams of their sister echoed in his head. The cage – because that is what it is – is soundproof, but he’s always been able to hear what others could never hear, so he hears the cries that tears themselves from her throat, her palms slamming ineffectively into the reinforced glass.  
  
He thinks, vaguely, of a dark mausoleum, deformed beings clawing at him, and what little resolve he dredges up within him hardens.  
  
He lingers at the back of their entourage, fading into the background like he always did. Diego stormed off first in a fit of anger as he was prone to do. Luther, distracted by Allison and her fading strength, doesn’t notice when he slips away completely, too intent on bringing the love of his life back to her room where he can play nursemaid to her.  
  
He doubles back down, years of living on the streets allowing him to slip past even Pogo. He opens the door to the basement quietly, just a little crack, wide enough for him to squeeze through before he closed it behind him, looking down the long hallway to where the steel cage stood.  
  
Through the glass, he sees the moment when Vanya notices him. She stands up and slams against the glass almost instantly, and it’s all he can do not to get lost in his memories.  
  
Taking a shuddering breath, Klaus clears his mind of the thoughts of the mausoleum – a feat he’d never thought was possible, with how the ghosts were always hovering just over his shoulder - and focuses on Number Seven, the little sister that needed him right now. He crosses the distance to the cage easily and steps up towards the door, meeting Vanya’s desperate gaze squarely. He makes a gesture, and after a few seconds, she takes a deep breath and complies, taking a few steps backwards.  
  
Klaus eyes the metal wheel, frowning slightly. The metal looked strong, and he doesn’t think he can actually move it, not when it took _Luther_ to open it previously.  
  
It was almost enough to make him give up right there and then, but then he looks at Vanya once again, at the thinly veiled hope in her eyes – which were red and puffy – and he sighs. Rolling his shoulders, he grips the wheel with both hands, bracing himself as he pulled.  
  
Gritting his teeth, he felt the metal shift a little, but it wasn’t enough. Panting, Klaus tries again, wiping his palms against his pants. He braces himself at another angle, pulling with all his might.  
  
“That’s not going to work.”  
  
He slips and falls to the ground then, his head cracking painfully against the metal. Groaning, he presses a palm to the side of his head where he can feel a bump forming. He spies Vanya’s concerned look through the glass and waves it off, looking to the individual standing off to the corner.  
  
“Are you going to help or just stand there looking pretty?” He snapped irritably.  
  
Ben rolled his eyes, “I can’t touch anything remember?”  
  
Klaus hissed, heaving himself upright. “You punched me in the face earlier.” He grumbled, giving the metal wheel another once over.  
  
“Yeah well, that was probably more on you than me.”  
  
Klaus sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. That punch had likely shocked Ben more than it had him, and Klaus knew that if his brother could do that earlier, he would have punched him in the face every time he started doing something stupid. The fourth Hargreeves growled under his breath and shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He recalled the elder Hargreeves’ words back at the salon, about how he had so much more potential than what he was currently capable of. (He studiously ignored the memory of Reginald’s soft sigh and his quiet ‘you were my greatest disappointment’)  
  
Closing his eyes, Klaus forced himself to recall the moment when Ben had punched him in the face. He forced himself to remember when he’d gone through withdrawal, his mind clearing up so quickly that the screams all came rushing back at once. He pushed past those ghosts, focusing instead on the anger that had risen within him back then, a pulse in his gut as he accessed his power unconsciously.  
  
His eyes snapped open and he placed his hands on the wheel once again. Directing a look at Ben, one more serious than he had ever been, he said, “Help me with this. _Now_.”  
  
He ignored the hesitant shuffle as Ben came closer, focusing on the power he could now consciously feel swirling in his gut. His hands started glowing, and as they did, so did Ben. A quick glance at the disbelief on Vanya’s face told him that she could see Ben’s outline through the glass, and a grin spread across his face, mirrored by his favourite brother.  
  
“On three.” Ben commanded, his glowing hands gripping the wheel as well.  
  
“One, two, three!”  
  
They heaved, and slowly, they felt the wheel turn, screeching as the mechanism – old and rusty from years of disuse – moved. The two of them turned the wheel as much as they could, and Ben’s corporeal form vanished when the wheel turned loose, though the sixth Hargreeve remained where he was.  
  
Klaus ignored the exhaustion that suddenly seemed to spread throughout his limbs, focused on turning the wheel completely. When it hit the end with a clang, he huffed in victory. He placed one foot on the metal wall beside the door and pulled, the steel door groaning open.  
  
Vanya was out of it before he’d even gotten the door fully open. He slid to the ground tiredly, leaning against the cage as he tried to catch his breath.  
  
“Why?”  
  
Klaus looked at his sister, who was crumpled on the ground, shaking and trembling so violently it looked like she was going through withdrawal. She stared up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, a mix of suspicion and hope warring within.   
  
He had meant to say something else, a quip, some inappropriate joke, _anything_ else really. Instead, what came out was, “I know what it’s like to be locked up in a cage.”  
  
Vanya blinked at him, surprise washing away the tinge of distrust that he hadn’t even realized was on her face. He sighed and looked away, closing his eyes and fervently wishing that he hadn’t just blurted that out. He hadn’t told anyone (apart from Ben, but Ben didn’t count because well, it was _Ben_ ) and he doubted that anyone in the family knew what his special training had been. (Not when he remembered the envy that burned in Number Two’s eyes whenever dear old dad had announced that he was getting special training, or the way Number One had shut him down with a patronizing tone when he’d begged his brother to tell dad to _stop_.) He hadn’t told anyone about the mausoleum, and he never wanted to. For all that Ben disapproved of his drinking and drug-taking habits, his brother had always looked at him with understanding whenever he managed to shake himself free of the haunting memories, obliging in providing a distraction as much as he could while incorporeal.   
  
His eyes snapped open when he felt a weight collide into him, sliding to the side with a soft oomph before he caught himself. Looking down perplexedly, he felt the edges of panic rise up within him.  
  
Because Vanya was _hugging_ him.  
  
_Vanya_ , was hugging _him_.  
  
She sniffed, and he was suddenly made aware of the tremors that shook her body. He looked up at Ben for help, to which the other man just shrugged nonchalantly, giving him a mischievous smirk, “What are you waiting for? Just hug her back man.”  
  
Klaus cringed internally, but he slowly placed his hand around her, patting her back slowly. The action drove her to bury her face within his shirt even more, her sobs growing louder as she clung onto him even more tightly. He could feel the wetness from her tears seep into his shirt, but for all that his siblings thought he could never keep his mouth shut, he remained silent then, allowing his sister to break down in the privacy that the basement offered.   
  
Pressing his lips together, Klaus unconsciously drew her in a little more firmly. He didn’t know how to comfort someone, didn’t know how to deal with being vulnerable since he actively tried to avoid feeling that way. But for _this_ moment, he would try his best to be what Vanya needed, even if he was the poorest candidate. Because all he’d wanted back then was for _someone_ to open the door and let him out. All he’d wanted was for someone to reach out and comfort him and tell him that it was okay, to soothe the fear pounding within his mind instead of looking at him with clinically cold eyes and shutting the door in his face.  
  
So just for this moment, he could – _would_ – be the anchor that Vanya needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review on your way out!
> 
> You can come visit me on tumblr at @shadowsofmoonracer or drop some prompts at my writing blog @midnight-hallucinations


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